


all i know is that you care

by ohcinnamon



Category: Smosh
Genre: M/M, POV Second Person, Short Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-09 21:44:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17413283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohcinnamon/pseuds/ohcinnamon
Summary: You know it’s completely reasonable to not see each other as much as normal. That’s just how it is, when these things happen. You’ve never blamed him for it.And yet he’s here. Right in front of you, even though he doesn’t have to be.





	all i know is that you care

**Author's Note:**

> (title from "honey" by magic man.)

When you hear the knock at your door, you bolt to your feet. You know who it is without ever needing to check. He’s the only one who’s ever come over this late, for whatever reason.

You open the door, and a rush of cold night air hits you in the face, but it’s the sight of him that makes you blink, not the wind.

“Damien,” he says, looking right at you. And those eyes have always been able to see right through you, but right now they’re making something deep in your chest stir. It’s him standing in the doorway, and you know he couldn’t have gotten back to LA more than a few hours ago, and yet he’s here instead of unpacking. “I’m back.”

“You are,” you breathe out, taking him in. _Drinking_ him in, really, like you’ve been stranded in the desert and he’s the only oasis you’ve ever seen. He’s your rock. He’s your anchor. He’s the one certain thing in your life when it seems that the floor has fallen out from underneath you.

Things have been stressful lately, for the both of you, with the company shutting down. You’ve both been busy. The holiday season doesn’t make it any easier. You understand this. You know it’s completely reasonable to not see each other as much as normal. That’s just how it is, when these things happen. You’ve never blamed him for it.

And yet he’s here. Right in front of you, even though he doesn’t have to be.

“Come in,” you say, grabbing his hand gently and pulling him inside. “I can’t believe you’re here instead of your place. You must be so jetlagged.”

“Worth it,” he says, pushing the door shut behind him with his foot. He moves in, his wrists crossing behind your neck, and he bumps his nose against yours. “I wanted to see you.”

It’s not the first time he’s done this, but it still makes your heartbeat stutter. The first time it happened — well, _really_ happened, not some joke that your castmates put you up to — was in Japan, after he’d drank too much sake and confessed to you. He’d put his arms around you, warm breath fanning against your cheeks, and you didn’t know how to react to it at first, but you kind of just… fell into it, just like every other new thing you’ve faced together.

You’re the one who kisses him this time, and it feels like muscle memory, the way you two know how to fit together. A well-worn puzzle, by now, one with pieces that know exactly where they’re supposed to go. His hands are cold on the back of your neck, but it just makes you feel that much more awake. Which is good, because you never want to be asleep in the limited amount of hours you do get to spend with him.

And you press him back against the door, a soft _thump_ , trying to get closer, _closecloseclose,_ because you want this. You missed this. You missed _him_. He laughs at you, a little  _huff_ against your lips, and melts right into you.

“I’m glad you’re home,” you say without thinking about it, and he pauses. You realize what you’ve implied: this is home. Home is a place where both of you are together. And while it’s true — to you, anyway — that doesn’t mean you know if you should say it yet, not when you still have separate apartments. “I mean. I’m glad you’re _here._ You know what I meant.”

He looks at you for a second, panting open-mouthed, and then leans in to kiss your jawline, your neck. He collapses against your chest, his arms tight around you, and buries his face into your shoulder. All at once the fire ceases and you feel like _glowing_ , overcome with emotion, waves and waves of it.

“I missed you, baby,” he murmurs; soft, like he has trouble admitting it even after all this time.

“I missed you too,” you say, because you did. You can never get enough of him, lately.


End file.
